Mounting Debt
by Rhiannamator
Summary: Jay's tenant, Heath, can't afford his rent. Jay has an arrangement in mind, but the price may be more than Heath can pay. Language, M/M, dark psychological themes
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Mounting Debt  
****Rating: M  
****Disclaimer: I don't own these characters that i've twisted for my own dirty purposes. I don't make money from the twisting, either.  
****Warnings: Language, M/M, coerced sex, dark psychological themes  
****Summary: Jay's tenant, Heath, can't afford his rent. Jay has an arrangement in mind, but the price may be more than Heath can pay.**

**A/N: This is not a happy story. Future chapters will get disturbing. You've been warned.**

Jay Reso approached the door of the apartment next to his, scrubbing a large hand through his short blond hair. He didn't enjoy this part of being a landlord. He didn't want to be the guy who evicted someone who had fallen on bad times, but he couldn't afford to be a softie, either. He couldn't have his tenants thinking he was a doormat that could be ripped off. Still, of the three apartments besides his in his building, this was the one he least wanted to screw over. And the kid would be screwed.

Heath had moved in almost a year and a half ago with his exotic boyfriend, Justin. Jay had the feeling they were partiers, but they rarely brought it home, and they kept the place as tidy as one could expect from a couple of boys working themselves through school. They had a dog that would bark his damn head off whenever someone approached the building or knocked on their door, but they usually quieted him pretty quick and he was friendly. In all, they were nice kids.

Justin was soft-spoken and staid, Heath flamboyant and obnoxious. Thanks to thin walls, Jay knew they took on the same roles in bed. He could hear Heath moaning and pleading in his thick Southern drawl, while all he ever heard from Justin was a few soft grunts, and an occasional slap of what Jay assumed was hand on ass. That always made Heath squeal and beg for more. Their landlord felt like a creeper for enjoying those serenades as much as he did, but on long lonely nights it was hard to blame him. He liked to imagine himself making the redhead squeal and moan like that in Justin's place.

Four months ago, those noises stopped. Justin had stood in Jay's doorway, calmly explaining in his melodic, foreign accent – jarringly different from his lover's – that he'd graduated and his student visa had been revoked. He politely asked to be let out of the lease, and Jay didn't have much of a choice. Heath stood red-eyed and biting his thumbnail behind Justin, and promised in wavering tones that he'd fulfill the rest of the lease's terms, and they left. That night there was a lot of shouting in the apartment next door, and by morning Justin was gone.

Jay knew that Heath spent his nights in solitude and his days in summer classes, at the restaurant he served at, or interviewing for a second job. It seemed no one was hiring a drop-out seeking to further his education. The few times Jay had spoken to him, he'd noticed the spark was missing from those soft brown eyes. Even his long ginger locks that had been so bright and bouncy now seemed to droop. He'd been late with rent that first month, and since then it had only gotten worse. Today was the kid's last chance before Jay would take drastic measures.

Jay knocked on the door, hearing the dog immediately go apeshit and Heath's tired reprimand. "Boodah! Shush yerself! Tch!" Boodah calmed to a whine as the door opened and Heath stood there in basketball shorts, one hand on the excitable black lab's collar and the other raking back his hair. The movement showed off his bare chest to nice effect. He took one look at Jay and his pretty face fell. "Ah, shit. Is it the fifteenth already?"

Well, with a greeting like that, Jay figured he could toss small talk out the window. "Nice to see you, too. It's the sixteenth, actually. Got something for me?"

Heath sighed. "Sorry, Mr. Reso. C'mon in."

Jay stepped inside and shut the door behind him, petting Boodah while Heath retrieved a box from under the end table by the couch. Jay's eyes lingered on Heath's rump as he bent. Such a juicy butt, round and firm. He'd fantasized long and hard about getting his hands on it. Hearing the redhead cry out with Jay's cock lodged deep inside... Jay blinked himself out of his trance before he started sporting a bulge his jeans wouldn't hide, and took the wad of cash Heath handed over. Heath swallowed as Jay counted once, twice, then looked at him with something akin to disappointment.

"You're fifty dollars short. And that's just for this month."

The redhead groaned internally. Couldn't he see that he was trying? "Can you take it as a good faith payment?"

"Heath, I took a good faith payment last month. And the month before that. You owe me, like, 400 bucks here. If you can't make rent I'll have to lease it to someone who can."

"No. No man, please," Heath said, his eyes plaintive. "What if.. what if I work it off? I'll fix shit, unclog toilets, whatever man, please. They cut my hours at the restaurant. I'm trying to find something else. I just need some time."

Jay shook his head. "I've given you all the time I can. As for fixing shit, I've cleaned up after your Mr. Fix-It moments; it'd be less work if I did it myself."

"Then I'll do your dishes," Heath cried. "Shampoo your carpets, something. C'mon, I'll never find anything this price on this side of town, and I... I have nowhere else to go."

Jay hated the thought of this sweet boy living downtown. Heath wasn't innocent, but despite his usual cockiness he retained an aura of small-town naivete. Jay didn't like the idea of anyone corrupting him. Well, anyone but Jay himself. That seemed like a fine idea, indeed. "Don't you have friends or family to help you out, take you in?"

Heath's eyes dropped to the floor. "I haven't seen my family since I took up with Justin. And my friends abandoned me when he did. Guess they only put up with me because of him."

Damn. Fucking harsh. Made Jay feel even worse for harboring the notion he had in his head during his past couple visits here. It also made his plan easier. There was something about him he just wanted to take. It may be wrong, and very illegal, but it wouldn't go away. "I like you, Heath. I honestly don't want to kick you out, but..."

Heath felt a teeny bit of hope at the reluctance in the blonde's voice. Enough hope to fan his desperation. "Anything Mr. Reso. Please." He stepped closer, meeting his landlord's eyes and putting all the hurt in his heart on his face. He was hoping Jay wouldn't be able to resist his full-on puppy-dog look. Jay couldn't, he crumbled, but the result was not what Heath had expected. An offer of chores, more time, maybe a job lead was all Heath had in mind. Instead, Jay lifted a hand to brush a strand of red from his face, cupping his cheek and running a thumb over his lower lip.

"We might be able to work something out."

Heath's eyes widened, and he jerked away from Jay's hand. "Whoa whoa, hold up there, shotgun. What're you suggesting here?" He faltered when Jay's lips lifted into a smug little smirk that seemed perfectly at home on his face. "Look, Mr. Reso..."

"No Heath, you look," Jay said with a soft smile. "You owe me. You've got no money for me. You want to work it off? You're going to work it off like the pretty boy you are. On your knees."

Heath shook his head so hard his red tresses flung about his face. "No. You think I'm a whore? Get the fuck out! OUT!" he screeched, pointing at the door. Jay laughed, his eyes crinkling around the corners.

"No, I'm here to tell _you_ to get out. Unless you can pay me. Money or mouth, it's up to you, but I need it now." Jay looked at the expression on Heath's face and put a hand over his heart, brow furrowing in mock pain. "Wow, Heath. I'm hurt. I mean, it wouldn't be _so_ bad.. would it? Gotta be a better offer than the slumlord downtown you'd be bending over for a month from now," he added with a sly grin.

Everything and nothing jumbled in Heath's mind, trying to form words and failing. He was horrified, disgusted by what Jay was suggesting. Was he worth so little to people, to be used and discarded, abandoned and disowned? By Justin, by his family, and now his seemingly sweet - if a little creepy - landlord. Heath had noticed Jay checking him out on occasion, was hoping it would make him more sympathetic. But no, Jay didn't like him, he just wanted to get off. Maybe Jay was right. What else was he good for? He couldn't find a job, he was having trouble in school, his car was on its last legs. Soon he wouldn't be able to afford to feed Boodah, the only creature on Earth that gave a damn about him.

As these thoughts went whirling through Heath's mind, Jay had crept towards him, reaching up to touch his face again. "I'm not that disgusting, now, am I?" His tone was softer, blue eyes searching Heath's face. "I'm not an evil man, Heath. Just a man. And you are... just so fucking beautiful."

Fingers trailed down Heath's chest. Now Heath was really confused. He hadn't been touched so gently in ages, and no one ever called him beautiful. Not even Justin. Justin was always the pretty one. Justin with his boyish dimples and dark eyes, his ready laugh and quirkiness. Justin had put Heath in his current situation. Heath wondered if he'd even be jealous, and blinked back overwhelmed tears as Jay leaned close to his ear, his voice low.

"You know what you do to men like me, don't you. Didn't even try to cover up when you came to the door. You had to know I could hear you fucking all those nights. Lying in my bed, thinking about the sounds you'd make while wrapped around my dick. Don't you think I know how much you love cock?" Jay took Heath's wrist and guided his hand between his thighs. Heath tried to tear away, but Jay held him fast, making him feel the hard ridge in his jeans. Fuck, and he was looking at him with those stunning blue eyes again, turning his knees to mush. Heath had thought about touching Jay there a few times, if just to be a tease, but not like this.

"M-Mr. Reso..." Heath started, but Jay shushed him with a finger on his lips, tracing their shape.

"Been a while since you had a fat dick between those lips, hasn't it? Go on, Heath. Taste it. Then we'll see what we can do about that debt."

Heath pulled back to speak, but Jay quirked his arched brows, that little smirk playing on his lips and daring him to argue. Jay bobbed his head in a nod to the floor and Heath sank to his knees, eyes never leaving Jay's, and started to fumble with his belt. Jay ran a finger down Heath's cheek as they gazed at each other, whiskers rasping under calloused skin, and Heath tore his eyes away to pull the buckle free and unfasten the jeans. Fuck, he was actually going to do this. But what else could he do? He pawed at Jay's half-hard cock through the dark crimson boxer-briefs, then looked back up with one final plea in his eyes. Jay just motioned him to go on with another bob of his head.

Fine. Jay wanted his dick sucked? Heath would give him a blow job that would knock the gel from his spiky yellow hair. With a deep breath he tugged the underwear down Jay's hips and lapped at his tip before taking the head into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the smooth, musky skin. Heath usually loved this part, the feeling of a thick cock stiffening and swelling between his lips, the rush of pleasuring another man and having the power to turn him on, but now he just felt numb. No, not numb. Dirty. He was a whore now. He blinked back his tears and sucked Jay in, bobbed his head, lips sliding back and forth on the shaft that was filling his mouth. Fuck, Jay was a grower.

Jay was in heaven. He sifted his fingers through hair the color of an autumn sunset, burnished copper strands whispering over his knuckles. Moist brown eyes rolled up to meet his, and Jay admired the way the tears matted those long lashes. He slid deeper into that velvet mouth, thrusting harder than he meant and feeling Heath's throat contract around the head as he choked and gagged. Nails scrabbled at Jay's hips as Heath fought to breathe. When he saw those watery eyes overflow onto flushed cheeks he pulled out, the scrape of teeth on the underside of his shaft making him groan. Jay hadn't realized how tightly his fist was clenched in Heath's hair and he let go, letting Heath collapse to the floor. The redhead sucked in a shuddering gasp, coughing, and wiped his wrist across his chin.

"P-please.. don't hurt me.."

Jay's expression softened and he reached down to help the trembling redhead to his feet. "I don't wanna hurt you, precious," he murmured, and slid Heath's shorts down his hips. Heath's breath hitched and fresh tears sprang to his eyes as his hands automatically covered himself. Jay brushed fingertips down freckled arms and gently pushed them aside.

"No need to be shy. Not with me. Ooh, how pretty..." Jay cooed, and touched the short ginger hair between his legs. His crotch had the look of someone who normally shaved, but hadn't had the motivation recently. Jay liked it. His cock wasn't hard yet, but Jay would fix that. Heath flinched as Jay examined him with eyes and fingers, vulnerable and humiliated. He couldn't help the pitiful moan that left his lips as thick fingers coiled around him.

"C'mon now, I know you're not that uptight. Mm, you smell so good," his landlord purred, leaning into his neck and sniffing his hair. Heath shuddered as Jay fondled him. Fuck, he couldn't help it, those big hands knew what they were doing. The flesh in Jay's hand stirred and stiffened, and Jay breathed, "There you are."

Jay licked around the shell of Heath's ear, tongue poking and sweeping inside before lips closed on his lobe. Heath repressed an "Ew" at the slimy feeling. It was gross and violating and why was his cock getting so hard? Jay's lips trailed down to suck at a spot behind his ear as his free hand slipped behind Heath's neck, then he raised his blond head. Jay watched his face through lowered lashes, lips parting when Heath's did to gasp as he gave a gentle squeeze.

"Oh... oh, that's nice, isn't it? Feels good to be touched, doesn't it?" Fingers tightened on the nape of Heath's neck when he didn't answer, tugging strands of hair free from the sensitive skin there. "Doesn't it?

"Y-yes, Mr. Reso..."

"Then touch me, Heath."

Heath licked his lips and glanced down at the cock straining from Jay's fly. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gripped it, feeling his own saliva that coated the velvety skin and slicking his movements as he pumped his fist. Maybe if he got his landlord off quickly he'd leave him alone with his shame.

"Oh fuck," Jay grunted. "Eager little tramp. You like my dick, don't you, precious?"

"Yes..." The word came out in a whimper, and Heath tried to turn it into a purr. "So big and hard... wanna feel you cum." He batted his eyes, aware of the tears that spilled over at the gesture and screaming in his head at the man to just cum already. He almost jumped when Jay growled low in his chest.

"You're gonna feel me cum all right."

Before Heath realized what was happening he was face-down on the couch, hands trapped under his own chest and Jay's weight pinning him down. He wriggled and struggled, feeling a rigid length slide between his cheeks, shaft rubbing across his asshole.

"No, no... not this, please..." he begged as Jay pushed his head down, smashing his cheek into the cushion.

"Shh baby, it's okay," the man above him panted. "Jay-Jay's gonna make it feel so good. Just relax." Jay licked the fingers of the hand not holding Heath's head down. He didn't want to hurt his precious, but there was no time to find lube. Jay needed him. Couldn't Heath feel how he needed him? And he'd make Heath need him right back. He raised up enough to reach between them and rubbed spit over his pucker. He lined up and his cockhead slipped out of place a couple times as he tried to push past the resisting entrance. Jay slapped a butt cheek hard.

"Quit squirming," he hissed, then groaned as his dick finally pushed in and slid home. He covered Heath's scream with one large hand, thrusting into that hot, smothering hole, eyes rolled back in bliss. Those hot walls contracted around him with every sob from the redhead, making Jay dizzy. He covered Heath with his body, one hand slipping to curl over a tattooed shoulder, the other pushing back red hair from his temple with a wide palm. Hot, sticky breath panted against the side of Heath's face as Jay's hips pumped in slow, forceful strokes. Heath whined as he tried to relax, to adjust to the burn of the thickness stretching him, stabbing him deep.

"I know, precious. I know. Relax, let it feel good. You know how good it can feel. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum. Wanna cum for me?"

Heath could only nod, eyes squinched shut against his slowing tears. He didn't know if he'd ever feel like cumming again, but he knew what Jay wanted to hear. And he had a feeling Jay wouldn't let up until he got his way. Maybe if he thought of Justin, of his lovely voice and sweet face... but no. There was only pain there. At least the man currently rutting into him wanted him in some fashion.

Jay wiggled around on Heath's back, adjusting his angle, then snapped his hips down, slamming directly into Heath's prostate. Brown eyes snapped open and a low moan tore from Heath's throat. "There, precious. Ah, yeah..." Jay's tongue snaked out and made a wet trail up Heath's cheek as his hand wriggled under hips, wrapping around the stiffening cock trapped against the couch. Heath tried to jerk his face away, hands clenching under him, but he had nowhere to go. Jay's grip on his shoulder tightened, chest pressing down on his bare back and breath ruffling his hair. The blonde's hips practically bounced on his ass, driving that thick cock so deep, making Heath's own dick rub against the sweaty palm that held it.

Heath hated it, hated how it felt so fucking good to be wanted, touched, filled. Hated that his aching dick needed more. Soon he was fucking Jay's hand, snapping his hips up so that cock ground against the little bundle of nerves deep inside him. Jay marveled at the beauty of Heath's face as the redhead lost himself in sensation, riding that gorgeous body as it bucked beneath him. His thrusts became frantic as he felt Heath's cock throb, his muscles tense.

"Fuck, feel so good, wiggling on my dick, so hard for me..." He squeezed the cock sliding back and forth through his fist and it was all the worked-up redhead needed. With a wail of anguished pleasure he released, body jerking under Jay's. He heard a curse and a groan in his ear as his walls clamped on Jay's already choking cock, felt the hot flood of cum filling him. "My god. More beautiful than I imagined."

Jay giggled and kissed Heath's cheek, hand moving under his hips before withdrawing. He pulled out and got to his knees, admiring the body spread out before him. One hand ran down his heaving back, then spread his cheeks further to gaze on the used hole. Red and contracting, Jay's cum making white trails, tinged pink with just a trace of blood. He couldn't help it, he leaned down for a lick, hearing Heath gasp before getting up to fix his jeans.

"We taste good together," he said, then knelt to get eye-level with the dazed-looking redhead. "Go take a nice long bath, precious. You deserve it." He kissed Heath's forehead, then nose, and smiled before getting up and heading to the door. "Oh, consider this month's rent paid in full."

Heath raised his head, blinking. "This month?"

Jay smirked. "Yeah. You still owe me 350." He winked and walked out, shutting the door before Heath broke down.

o~o~o

Jay closed his front door and leaned back against it, breathing hard, then laughed in disbelief. He'd done it. He'd taken Heath and it was better than he'd ever dreamed. He'd even made him orgasm... Jay ran a hand over his mouth, staring at his other fist that curled around a nice wad of his redhead's cum. A perfect memento of their first time. He had to find something...

Jay went to his kitchen and grabbed one of his vacuum-sealed canning jars. This would have to do until he found a vial worthy to hold a piece of his precious, maybe a little one to wear around his neck. He'd seen people do that with blood, why not cum? He scraped his palm and fingers on the rim of the jar, getting all the sticky substance in before sealing the lid. He licked the remnants from his hand as he took the jar to his bedroom and opened the wardrobe.

Clothes didn't fill the wardrobe; there was room enough for that in the closet. Only one shirt hung in there, a t-shirt Heath used to wear to the gym. Jay'd had to be quick to snag it from the washer after the redhead left the building's laundry room, before the water filled the machine and washed away Heath's sweat. He touched the shirt, then lovingly placed the jar on a shelf next to another little trophy, a thin lock of red hair tied with a purple ribbon.

A few times, Justin and Heath had called Jay over to unclog drains, and Jay would sneak the clumps he'd snaked out back home. He'd made a point not to use chemicals to do it. Petting the shining strands in the wardrobe now, he remembered the hours he'd spent separating them from Justin's and clods of gunk, carefully washing each and laying it with its brothers before burning the rest. As for the ribbon, well, Jay thought Heath would look lovely in purple.

Photos lined the doors of the wardrobe, and dozens of brown eyes gazed at Jay as he opened the doors wider. Some of the photos were blurry, but Jay had recently bought himself a new camera so Heath's features could be more clearly seen in the pictures he sneaked. Going to work, roaming campus, at the beach with Boodah, even a couple from the gym. Random words in black ink were scrawled across some of the pictures, and if Justin had been nearby when the picture was taken, he'd been cut out. Jay loved to stare at that smile, that body, imagine touching it all over. Now he had, and if the landlord had his way, the boy next door would never pay off his debt.

The adrenaline hadn't left Jay's veins and his cock throbbed in his jeans, so he left the doors open, wanting the pictures of Heath to watch as he took the shirt off the hanger. He'd been so careful not to sully it with his own sweat or cum, but it was okay now. Now they were one.


	2. Chapter 2

**JadeRose1, I'm rather fond of crazy Jay, myself. LadyDragonsblood, No, Jay is not healthy.. & yes, i've been re-reading & actually thinking about & enjoying my other stories, too. I swear i will get to them, but this breaking out is a delicate thing & i'm just letting the muses have their way. IsidoraAngst, You should go with that feeling.. things will get quite dark, lol. xNikoStarrx, Hehe, i love when i make readers feel dirty for enjoying my work.. what does that say about me? :P Esha Napoleon, Thank you! LittleMissHardCorre, Welcome to the disturbed group, then. & i really do appreciate comments on my technical strengths/weaknesses, so thank you much!**

**I appreciate all your feedback & comments. Thanks!**

**Title: Mounting Debt  
****Warnings: Language, peeping, sabotage**

How had he gotten this bad? So desperate and attention-starved he'd fuck for rent money. A prostitute. A whore.

Heath got to his feet, knees wobbling and protesting under his weight. He wasn't hurt – he didn't think Jay'd wanted to hurt him – but fuck, he'd feel that man for days. He felt like the definition of ridden hard and put away wet. Dirty, used... raped.

He passed the kitchen where Boodah was lying on his spot on the rug. "Some help you were," Heath snapped, and the great black head raised, ears cocked as Heath sighed. It wasn't the dog's fault. Heath and Justin often got a little rough, and Boodah had been trained long ago - by many thrown objects - to leave his people alone when clothes started coming off. And Boodah wouldn't attack Jay, he liked Jay. Of course, the lab liked everyone. Plus, the last thing Heath needed was his landlord suing him for attack with a deadly dog and get his only friend put down.

The water from the shower beat down on Heath, wetting hair and skin and rinsing off the slime running down his thighs. Rape victims weren't supposed to shower. They were supposed to call the police and get a rape kit. But what would the police find? Jay hadn't hurt him, hadn't bruised or beat on him. His asshole felt a little torn up, but he'd had worse from rough sex he'd joyfully participated in. Jay would deny any blackmail. All the cops would find was a kid doing his landlord and a puddle of cum drying on the couch. And that's what made him sick to his stomach, what he suspected would keep him lying awake at night. That in the end, he'd given in.

Heath turned the water hotter, hotter, but still couldn't stop shivering. When the water was scalding and steam filled the room, he grabbed a rag and soap and started to scrub.

o~o~o

Jay hugged the shirt to his naked chest before putting it back in its place in the wardrobe. He'd love to stay and revel in his triumph all day, but there was work to do. His building was over 100 years old, and something always needed repaired. Today it was a faucet in the Helmsley-Michaels apartment. Going up there reeking of sex would be unprofessional, so he'd just take a quick shower.

Before he closed the wardrobe's doors, Jay kissed his favorite photo, taken in Jay's own office. The full picture with Justin hung in the office with all the other tenants, but here it was just Heath. A pair of black sunglasses held back his fiery hair, a bit shorter back then. His chin was lifted and his lips were puckered as he flashed a peace sign. Jay grinned and kissed the image of those sweet lips again, remembering how good they felt on his dick, and headed to the bathroom.

Jay had inherited the building from his Uncle David, or - as David liked to call himself - Gangrel, Lord of the Underworld.

Uncle David was a little eccentric.

No one was surprised when Jay was named the sole heir to David's estate. Jay was a middle child and often got lost in the family shuffle. He wasn't the biggest or the smartest or the sweetest. He was just Jay. But just Jay had always been enough for Uncle David. Jay didn't have to try to be something he wasn't with David, didn't have to fight for attention. David claimed Jay made him feel young, and he taught Jay so, so much. Including all the little tricks in this quirky old building.

In the dark bathroom, Jay felt for the medicine cabinet on the far wall. When he found it, he undid a latch, removed the whole cabinet, and set it on the counter. In the bathroom next door there was a little framed mirrored panel, purely decorative, with a towel ring attached. The tenants never had any clue the mirror was one-way glass.

Jay peered through the little window into Heath's bathroom and watched him stumble out of the shower, draping a towel over his shoulders like a child would. No bath, dammit. He liked to watch Heath bathe. His precious left the room, so Jay put the cabinet back in place, then turned the lights on to start his own shower.

o~o~o

When Heath climbed out of the shower, skin red and shiny, he almost tripped over the dog lying next to the claw-foot bathtub. In a bit of a daze, he ignored the lab and huddled into a towel, the fibers feeling scratchy on his raw skin. Boodah followed him into the bedroom and hopped up on the bed when Heath sat down, laying his head in his lap. Heath blinked down at him and pet his furry neck.

"S'okay, Boo. Daddy's okay. Wish your Pappa was here, don't you? I miss him, too." His breath hitched and tears threatened again, but he fought them back as Boodah sat up and licked his face. "Well, we don't need him." Heath took the big doggie face in his hands and looked into brown eyes. "Right, Boodah-boy? We're gonna figure out a way to get some cash and finish school, then get a good job so Daddy never has to spread his legs for rent again."

Boodah licked his face again in agreement and tried to fit his 100 pound frame into Heath's lap, nearly knocking him over. Heath hugged the big oaf and sighed. "Somehow..." As he nuzzled the warm black fur, his eyes caught the bedside clock. Fuck. Being late to work was not going to help his situation.

o~o~o

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks since their lovemaking on the couch. What the fuck was wrong with that bitch? Jay glowered at the redhead across the street. Heath stood outside a day-labor building with other men in need of quick work. He blustered and strutted, trying to act tough, and the others were looking at him with disinterest bordering on contempt. Despite Heath's tall, broad strength, his presence was about as imposing as a tiger lily. Everything about him practically screamed "I take it in the ass," which wasn't a sentiment that went down too well with this set. It was a minor miracle he hadn't been punched in the face yet.

Jay was hoping Heath would have come over by now to make another "payment," but no. He'd been here or on a job every minute he didn't have classes or work. He wasn't eating enough, wasn't attending the free gym at the community center anymore. He looked thinner, dark smudges under those beautiful mahogany eyes. Why was Heath doing this to himself? Jay thought he'd enjoyed himself on the couch. He had the evidence in his wardrobe. Was working himself to death better than giving in to Jay again? That couldn't be it.

Jay slammed his palms on the steering wheel. At this rate, making 20-70 dollars each job, Heath would have this months' rent and some left over to help with the back rent. Jay couldn't allow that to happen. Now that he'd had a taste of his love, he was never letting go. He'd keep Heath in his debt until the redhead realized how much Jay loved him. He'd make Heath need Jay until Heath loved him, too.

o~o~o

Heath trotted towards the car, allowing himself to feel a little hope. He'd done it. He was exhausted, his hands were blistered and sore from unfamiliar labor, but he'd made it. By himself. He had this month's rent, and if he got some good tips today he should have over $200 for back rent. He'd try to convince Jay to let him pay the rest off next month, and if he couldn't, he'd close his eyes and endure another fucking. But that would be the last time. And damned in he would cum.

"Hello, Heath."

The redhead nearly jumped out of his skin at the smooth, friendly voice that suddenly spoke next to him. His heart pounded as he looked into the blue, smiling eyes of his landlord. He'd been doing his best to avoid Jay, but the man had an uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere.

"Um, hi, Mr. Reso. I have your money," he blurted, and Jay tilted his head.

"Do you now?" he asked. He was wiping grease from his big hands with a rag, a common sight since he was usually fixing something. Heath suppressed a shudder at the memory of where those hands had been.

"Well, most of it. I can pay off the rest next month, I swear."

Jay's lips formed that wry smirk that haunted Heath's dreams. "Why don't you come down to my office around, say, two. I'm sure we can work something out."

Heath saw the way his smoky blue eyes raked up and down his body, and he swallowed. "Okay, Mr. Reso."

"All right," Jay said, nodding. "I gotta run. Trish and Lita's AC is on the fritz, and I don't need a couple sweaty, cranky lesbians on my ass."

Heath gave him a half-hearted wave as Jay picked up his toolbox and headed up the outside stairs to Trish and Lita's apartment. He turned and slid into his car, taking a deep breath and gripping the wheel. Last time. Once more, then never again. He could do it. Heath started the engine and headed to work. He only got a few miles before the car broke down.

o~o~o

"So, what's the damage?" Heath asked, dreading the answer. When the man behind the desk, who'd introduced himself as Bryan, quoted the estimate, Heath's head hit the desk. He literally dropped his forehead to the wood and banged it a couple times.

"Hey hey hey!" Bryan said. "Don't do that. I don't need my customers leaving with concussions." Heath looked up at him with misery written across his face, and Bryan couldn't help but ask, "That bad, huh?"

"Worse."

The mechanic shook his head. Beneath his blond beard he had a friendly face, and his heart was true to his image. He knew times were tough all over, and he looked at Heath with sympathetic eyes. "Well, we could set up financing, but... look, kid. This is gonna cost more than the car is worth. You'd be better off buying a new one."

Heath shook his head. "I can't afford that. Fuck, how am I gonna get to work? School?" He ran his hands through his curtain of red hair, probably not even realizing he was talking to himself out loud. "Gotta walk five miles before I even get to a bus stop."

"Live uptown?" Bryan asked. The mass transit was notoriously inconvenient there.

"Yeah. I got a deal on cheap rent," Heath said with a huff. He'd never felt cheaper. He wasn't going to tell Bryan that he lived in the gay district. With his luck lately this guy would want a blow job for fixing his car.

Bryan sat back and studied the kid. Despite his long hair, he seemed like a clean-cut guy. Just down on his luck. Bryan himself had been in the same boat when a kind soul had taken a chance on a young stranger wanting to own his own garage. Now he was in a place where he could afford to help someone else.

"Okay, I'll tell you what," Bryan said. "I got this car out back. She's not much to look at, but she's a tank. You'll be able to drive away today and we can keep your old betty for parts. As far as financing, we can work something out." He smiled at Heath, but faltered at the sick look that suddenly drained the color from the redhead's face.

"W-work something out?"

"Hey, don't look so worried. I was thinking, half of what I quoted you for the repair for a down payment, then 100 dollars a month for six months. Can you swing that?"

Relief washed over Heath, but it was short-lived. He wouldn't be sucking Bryan's dick, but he'd be short on this month's rent, never mind the back rent. Plus, he'd have to register the car and now had a car payment. Still, it was a better option than fixing his junker that would probably break down again next week. "Yeah, yeah I can swing that. Thank you, man. So much."

"Just paying it forward, as cheesy as that sounds. Let me draw up some paperwork."

"Sure. I just need to make a quick phone call." Heath excused himself and dialed his boss. "Hey, it's Heath. I know I'm late, but I'll make it as soon as I can. My car-"

"Don't bother," came the voice on the other end.

"Don't bother... today?" Heath asked, his stomach sinking. "Is it that slow?"

"No, it's not. Which is why we need someone reliable, and I don't just mean today. This is the third time this month."

The sinking feeling intensified. "Naw man, don't do this to me..."

"I'm sorry, Heath." Except he didn't sound sorry at all. "You're fired."


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it's been so long, but I'll try to update things more regularly now.. yeah i know, i keep saying that..  
****JadeRose1, No, the fates are not kind to Heath here. Esha Napoleon, thank you! IsidoraAngst, Heath's boss just sucks. I know lots of people who've been canned for less. There may be a knight in Heath's future, we'll see if it does him any good. LadyDragonsblood, Just unfortunate coincidence. Haha, leave it to you to be worried about Boodah in all this. I know you love dogs as much as i do. :D I'm still working on coming back, hopefully this helps. Failed to De-anon, Thank you! I'm afraid thins won't get much better for our poor ginger.. Blazing Glory, Yes, Jay's fucking nutso, & if it's up to him he's the only one Heath will be on his back for. Flufferz, Agreed, Jay is sexy as fuck.. even as a psycho. Shawter & Lita/Trish won't have a whole lot to do, but they may pop up here & there.**

**Thank you everyone for your feedback, i love it! As with the rest of my stories, i'll be responding via PM after this.. but you will get a response. I truly appreciate your reviews. Onwards..**

At two o'clock the next afternoon, when he was supposed to be meeting with his landlord, Heath was in the shower. He'd been lying in bed since he got home from the mechanic's the day before, broke, jobless, and hopeless. He'd been close to not getting up at all, just letting Jay come get him and kick his ass out on the street. What was the use in even trying? No matter what he did, he'd just end up in a homeless shelter or something. The fucking fates were against him. He'd known his boss had it out for him, trying to make him quit by cutting his hours to nearly nothing. Being late was just the excuse needed to fire his ass. He had nothing, no one left, except Boodah, and the dog would probably be better off with a family that could care for him.

But Heath couldn't do it. He'd never been one to stay down easy. After wallowing in self-pity all night and half the day, he'd dug down and found that resolve to pick up again and keep going. He'd find a better job, get better grades, and get himself out of this mess. But first, he had to suck it up and do what he had to do to keep off the streets. That meant getting in the shower, washing off the funk of the previous day, and going next door. He'd do what he had to do, and this time his body wouldn't betray him.

Jay watched Heath through the little window in the bathroom as the damp redhead wrapped a towel around his waist and glared at the mirror, his face set in firm lines. It wasn't nearly as satisfying peeping in on him this way as one might think. Jay had to time it just right even to catch him there, and when he did, he mostly caught glimpses through steam when Heath wasn't hidden behind the shower curtain or a towel. A few months ago Jay hardly bothered, but since Justin left he found it more difficult to keep away.

When Heath left the bathroom, Jay set the cabinet back in its place and hurried through his bedroom. His office had two doors, a front door for tenants and a back door that led to his apartment. He entered the office from his hallway and went to unlock the front door, flipping the sign from "Come Back Later" to "Come On In." He was ready. He turned to the portrait of the fanged blond grinning behind the desk and smiled.

"I'll make you proud of me, Uncle David," he told the portrait. "I'll make him love me. You'll see."

o~o~o

"You're late," Jay said, acting casual and not looking up from his paperwork as Heath peeped into his office.

"Sorry, Mr. Reso," Heath said. Jay put down his pen and motioned him inside.

"Enough with the Mr. Reso stuff," Jay said with a wry grin. "I think we're a little past formalities, don't you?"

"No, Mr. Reso."

Jay's grin fell away, but Heath set his jaw and stood his ground, lips pursed. "Okay..." Jay said. He didn't like this cold version of his fiery redhead. "Well, it's not due until tomorrow, but you said you had rent this month. How much?"

Stone-faced, Heath put the money in his hand on the desk. Two one-hundred dollar bills. Jay looked at the bills, then picked one up in each hand, turning them in his fingertips. "This is it? I thought you said you had almost all of it."

Heath took a deep breath. "My car died yesterday. I had to get it towed and get a new one. So, that's all I got." He got down on his knees and raked back his hair. "Please don't choke me this time."

"Oh, precious..." Jay's heart sank. Had the broken car hurt him this much? That hadn't been Jay's intention, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. It had gotten Heath here. He rose from his chair and came around to pull Heath to his feet, then guided him to sit on the desk. "I don't want it like that."

Heath glanced over his shoulder at the paperwork behind his butt. "You want it on the desk, then? Fine." He leaned back and started unbuttoning his jeans, until Jay's fingers closed over his.

"Stop."

Heath gave up, staring at the wall over Jay's shoulder, and said in a dull voice, "Then tell me how you want it." He couldn't look at Jay. He could feel the frustration growing in the other man, but he just wanted to get this over with. His eyes passed over the framed photos of Shawn and Hunter, then Lita and Trish, finally resting on the one of himself and Justin. Heath had what Justin always called his Bro Face on, while Justin simply looked beautiful. Smiling, dimples hiding under the dark beard that Heath loved to feel dragging down his body. The couple in the picture looked so happy together, mocking what Heath had now become. The redhead tuned his face away, looking at the floor and blinking back tears. He would not cry in front of this man.

Jay glanced over his shoulder to see what had put the pain in those brown eyes. Justin. Of course. His heart felt even heavier as he took the picture off the wall and sat down next to Heath on the desk. "You still love him." Heath looked at the frame in Jay's hands and opened his mouth, but couldn't choke words out. "Is he waiting for you? Are you going to South Africa to be with him after you finish school?" It wouldn't be the first time someone Jay loved had left him for another man. Nor the second or third, but Heath was the first he'd been so intimate with. He couldn't let him leave. Not Heath.

Heath took the picture and looked down at it. "He didn't even try to get his visa renewed. Couldn't wait to get away... from me..." Teardrops bloomed on the glass before Heath threw the frame to the floor like it was a distasteful bug, then turned away and chewed on his thumbnail.

Jay was careful not to let the relief show on his face as he pulled Heath's hand from his nibbling mouth. "How could anyone want away from you?" He enfolded his precious in his arms, feeling him stiffen but petting his fragrant sunset hair anyway, cradling his head on his shoulder. After a moment Heath was clinging to him, sobbing into his shirt. It had been so long since someone had held him, comforted him. He'd been so fucking alone in his grief.

Jay sat in silence and let Heath cry, and the redhead completely forgot who the arms holding him belonged to. At least, until the torrent slowed and Jay brought his wet face up, stroking thumbs over his cheeks. Jay thought he looked beautiful and vulnerable, eyes red and puffy, lips swollen and trembling as his breath hitched in his chest. Heath pulled away and looked around, finding a box of tissues on the desk and mopping his face. Even the way he blew his nose was cute.

"Sorry, Mr. Reso." He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, and Jay could almost see that cold steel trying to re-form on his face. He had to move now, while Heath was still open and raw.

Without thinking further about what he was doing, Jay grabbed the back of Heath's neck and crushed their mouths together. Heath squeaked, eyes wide, and tried to push Jay away, but the grip on the back of his neck tightened, the other arm going around Heath's back to pull him closer. A frustrated whine of defeat sounded in Heath's throat as he felt himself melt into Jay's embrace. The blond's warm mouth just felt so fucking good as it sucked in his lower lip.

Jay nibbled, tugging the redhead's lips parted so he could slide his mouth against them, deepening the kiss. He lapped at Heath's tongue, groaning when he felt his precious respond with an almost timid lick. Jay slid to his feet, standing in front of Heath without breaking their lip-lock, one thigh between his parted knees. The glass of the frame on the floor crunched beneath the heel of his shoe, and he absently kicked it aside. He felt hands grasping the backs of his shoulders as his own cupped Heath's pretty face. He devoured that soft, moist mouth, tasting cinnamon and the sweetness that was just Heath. Jay needed more. He grabbed an ass cheek and pulled forward, rubbing his thigh against Heath's groin while his lips traveled to suck and kiss his neck.

"No... stop," Heath gasped as his cock ground against Jay's leg. "Stop!" He shoved his landlord away, knocking him back a couple steps, where he blinked at Heath in surprise. They both panted through kiss-reddened lips, jeans straining, and Jay couldn't understand why they weren't in the throes of passion right now.

"What, precious?"

Heath cringed, pushing trembling fingers through his hair. He hated when Jay called him precious. It made him feel like anything but. "I don't want this."

Jay lifted his brows. "Now, why would you say that when I can see it's not true?" He gave a pointed look to Heath's crotch, and thought how lovely Heath was when he flushed like that.

"I can't help... We both know why I'm here. I owe you money and you're gonna take it outta my ass, so let's just get it over with. Don't humiliate me more by making me enjoy it." He stood and turned his back to Jay, going for his jeans again.

"I don't understand," Jay said. "How is enjoying our arrangement humiliating? I'm not humiliated, I'm just as hard."

Heath stopped and turned, fly now unzipped to reveal tight blue briefs, and stared at Jay. Was he fucking serious? One look at his face told Heath that Jay was honestly perplexed. He had no idea how to answer the blond, so he stood there with his mouth opening and closing.

"Come with me," Jay said, taking Heath's hand. The office had been a mistake. They needed somewhere more personal, where Jay could talk to him, where it wasn't business. He dragged the redhead through the door to his apartment and into his bedroom. Heath hung back, looking around with darting eyes as Jay opened his nightstand drawer and tossed a bottle of lube onto the plain flannel bedding. His sheets were light creamy beige, and a brown mink blanket lay draped over the foot. Above the dark wooden headboard hung a huge print, a portrait of two male angels, naked but strategically covered with a flowing red cloth. One stood sneering down at the bed while the other sat glaring at the ceiling. Both had ragged wings smeared with blood and dirt, and snakes coiled around their legs. It was beautiful, dark and creepy. Heath supposed that suited Jay.

"Take off your clothes, Heath," Jay said, unbuttoning his own shirt. He was going to tell Heath what David had told him long ago. Jay never needed the advice, would meet it with a quiet "I know," but it seemed to soothe David to say it. He must have known Jay would someday need his words. He was so wise. And now Jay finally had the opportunity to use the skills he'd been taught, not on the occasional boy at the local club, but on someone he loved. He'd make sure this one didn't leave, like the others...

When Heath got down to his little blue briefs, he hesitated. He'd probably dropped his panties for a dozen men, but he still had that glimmer of shyness. Bless his heart. Jay wouldn't push it. "Lie back on the bed," he said, discarding his own underwear.

Heath obeyed, and as he laid his head on the pillow, hair fanning across it, he choked out, "Just do it. Please."

Jay crawled up to lay beside him and took his wrist, nibbling the pulse point. That beautiful chest hitched and full, moist lips smiled against freckled skin. He'd found a spot already. "It's okay, Heath," he murmured, punctuating his words with soft nips and kisses up his arm. "It's not wrong or dirty to let someone make you feel good. I don't want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. Just give you pleasure." He paid special attention to the inside of the elbow, the dip above the bicep, all the little tender places so rarely kissed and caressed, making the body beside him squirm. "No one will think bad of you. No one even has to know. Just relax. Let me pleasure you."

He scooted closer on his side, winding his leg around Heath's and leaning over to kiss and nibble at his neck, their chests touching with each increasingly heavy breath. His hand roamed over a tattooed shoulder, palm sliding over his chest and down the pale skin of his side. Heath stayed as still as he could, feeling helpless except to let Jay explore him. He wanted to scream and push him away, tell him he was a rapist fuck, but he knew he needed to stay and let his landlord have his way. Why was he being so tender now? It was only confusing Heath. His wandering brown eyes met those of a gargoyle looming above the wardrobe, leering down at their forms as Jay tangled himself around him, and he shivered.

"Doesn't it feel good to have a warm body pressed against yours?" Jay breathed against his collarbone. "Skin touching skin.." His mouth roamed lower, closing over a thick nipple and feeling it stiffen further against his tongue. Jay worked his way to the other, his body covering more of the redhead's until he settled between his smoothly muscled thighs. He tongue-bathed the nipple's pink flesh, making it harden between gentle teeth. Jay marveled at how hard Heath's muscles felt, masqueraded as they were by such gentle curves and soft skin. And all covered in that dusting of freckles. He was unique, a treasure, and soon he'd be Jay's completely.

Heath lay passive under his landlord, not resisting, but not responding. Well, some of him was responding. He couldn't stop it; Jay was right, it did feel good to be touched. He'd craved someone touching him like this, paying attention to him. Jay crawled up his body, pressing his hips against the redhead's. Ginger eyelashes fluttered against flushed cheeks as their erections nestled against each other through the thin cotton of Heath's underwear, throbbing together in time with their pounding hearts. Heath's expression took Jay's breath away, and he dropped soft, sweet kisses over his face.

"So beautiful, Heath. Could worship every inch of you, all day. Taste you, feel you..." He brushed soft lips down his throat then raised up to purr in his ear, rocking his hips. "Fuck you." Heath's lips parted in a gasp and Jay invaded, exploring that mouth with his own, feeling lithe hips arch against him and legs spread a little more. Jay moaned into Heath's mouth as the young man gave in, hands gripping at Jay's back as their bodies writhed together, stiff flesh of their cocks grinding against cloth and creating friction that sent shocks of pleasure through them both. Jay pet red hair as they kissed, mussing and tangling it and palming his head with a large hand. Their hips gyrated and thrust, and Jay's fingers closed in his prey's hair, tugging his head to the side to expose his neck for nibbling, wet kisses, leaving the redhead to pant and whimper.

Jay slid down that curvy body, feeling his chest hair rasp against soft pale skin. He slipped the briefs down long legs, then spread him open further and moved to kiss and suck at inner thighs, probably leaving a hickey or two. From the way Heath was clutching at the sheets, he doubted the kid would care. Good. He wanted to mark him. Heath hadn't shaved again, which Jay took as a defiance since Heath was the type to go clean if he knew he was getting laid, but it didn't matter. Fuzzy or smooth, he'd still be perfect, Jay thought as he buried his nose in the tuft of ginger curls. It was lighter and softer than hair there should be, and smelled so good. He tickled Heath's balls with his tongue and was rewarded with a whimpering groan.

Heath's body was thrumming, drowning out his rational mind that told him he didn't want this. In a desperate last act, that part of his mind took over his mouth and whispered, "Please..." But then he wasn't sure if he was pleading for Jay to stop or go on.

"Please what, precious?" Jay asked, taking Heath's cock in hand and bringing the tip to his mouth. "Please this?" His tongue darted out to caress the head, and Heath moaned in anticipation. Jay closed his lips around the head and sucked gently, fist squeezing the shaft and tongue probing the slit for a taste of the precum Heath could feel being forced from him.

"Yes... more..." the redhead breathed, lifting his hips. Jay obliged, sliding his lips down and taking that swollen cock all the way in. Heath watched the blond head bob up and down on his dick. He had to admit his landlord was good-looking, and he looked really good with those full pink lips molded around him. Heath wanted to lose his mind at that wet heat engulfing him, tongue licking, massaging before Jay hollowed his scruffy cheeks and sucked. A loud curse left Heath's lips as his fingers grabbed at short blond hair. It felt like Jay was trying to suck his soul out through his cock.

He had no idea when Jay opened the lube, but then wet fingers were probing between his cheeks, massaging his pucker. Heath felt himself relax and open for those fingers so easily, letting thick digits press into his willing hole as that mouth devoured his cock. Such a slut, he thought as his hips rocked, pushing deeper into that mouth, further onto digging fingers. He was making him feel beautiful and desired, and Heath was a whore for that feeling. Dirty whore, whore for that mouth, felt so good, so hot and wet around his dick, he was so close...

The sensations disappeared and Jay crawled up his shuddering body. Heath whined at the loss, then felt lube being poured into his palm. He opened his eyes to see Jay poised above him, guiding his hand to wrap around Jay's thick shaft. "Rub me, Heath. Feel how hard you make me?" he rumbled close to Heath's ear, sticky hot breath on the side of his face. "Feel how much I want you? Drive me so crazy... C'mon, rub it, make that cock happy... you wanna make it happy, don't you..."

Heath nodded and rubbed, anything that would work toward relieving his own throbbing ache. He squeezed near the head, thumbing the slit to smear precum and Jay groaned above him. Jay knocked his hand away and shifted to line up with Heath's slick stretched hole. He pressed the head inside and stopped, watching that toned body flex and arch beneath him, feeling his inner walls grasp his flesh, trying to pull him in.

"This what you want?" Jay asked, and Heath nodded again, panting. The blond pressed a little deeper, teasing and ghosting fingers over his prey's straining, leaking cock. "Tell me what you want, Heath. Tell me you want me."

Heath swallowed, beyond any thought, reduced to a being of pure want. He met Jay's eyes, saw the same hungering need in those blue depths. Need for him. Just for him. "Want you. Please, please fuck me... god, please..."

Jay held his eyes and thrust inside, burying himself deep inside his love. "Ohhh, fuck..." he breathed, dropping his forehead to Heath's neck. "So sweet, so perfect wrapped around my dick..." He slid out slowly, making Heath feel the drag of every inch before slamming back inside again, Heath's sharp cry making him tremble before he started a slow, hard pace. Every thrust drew a wanton moan from the redhead, and Jay growled against his neck, needing to hear more.

"Love my dick inside you, don't you?" Jay rasped, repeating the words he'd been taught so long ago. "Love me filling you, completing you... making you feel so good..." He raised up a little and coiled his fingers around Heath's neglected shaft, pumping him roughly in time to his movements inside him.

"Oh yes, need it... more... ah, Jay, so close... almost..."

He heard his name from those plump flushed lips, felt muscles tense under him, and Jay lost it. "Ohh god..." He pounded into that smothering heat, cursing as Heath tossed his head back and shouted through bared teeth. He felt the cock in his hand pulse, the hot release coating his fingers, and Jay collapsed onto Heath's body, twitching as his own orgasm took him. He held his precious close, grinding his hips as Heath's contracting hole milked the last spurts from him. His back stung, and he realized Heath had dragged nails down his shoulders. Jay wondered if the other man would keep the skin from under his nails as a memento.

After they'd caught their breath, Jay raised his head and pet the burnished ginger tangle of hair. "That was wonderful. You were perfect, and so beautiful. Thank you." He punctuated his words with soft, moist kisses. He tried to deepen the kisses, then pulled back when Heath didn't respond.

"I... I gotta go..." Heath stammered, and wiggled away from Jay to grab his clothes with trembling hands.

"Wait, Heath... you could stay. At least have a shower," Jay said, sitting up. Where was he going? He'd tried so hard to make him at ease, and now he was going to leave?

"I can't," Heath said, pulling on his jeans without even bothering to wipe down his sticky body. "How much do I owe you now? Surely that was worth more than fifty," he mumbled, and was that a note of bitterness in his tone?

Jay sighed. It was still about money to him. He still had work to do. No matter, a few more romps like this and Heath would realize how much Jay really cared. No matter where he turned, Jay would be there to take care of him. Until then, he had to keep him in his grasp. "Just the back rent," the landlord replied, then laid back and groaned after Heath nodded and walked out the door. He couldn't wait a whole month until their next encounter. He had to find a way to make love to him again soon, and make sure he couldn't afford to leave.


	4. Chapter 4

**Forgot to mention at the end of last chapter, the painting in Jay's room is called ****Fallen Angels ****by Francois-Edouard ****Cibot. It's been one of my faves in our local museum since I was a kid, and I wanted something that would symbolize not only Jay hanging onto all the dark things that used to belong to Gangrel, but also a jab at the old fanfic trend of calling Jay an angel. Plus, I just really like it. Here's another chapter.**

Heath had always been a big fan of his own body. He would throw on a tight tee and ass-hugging jeans just to catch people of both sexes checking him out on the street. He enjoyed working out at the gym, the pleasing burn in his muscles, his heart rate high and endorphins rushing through his veins, sweat slicking his skin and making him glow. He didn't so much jerk off as make love to himself, exploring the curves and planes of his flesh, learning what made his body react and teaching it to respond to rubbing hands and probing fingers. He loved the pleasure his body gave other men, loved the sense of power it gave him. Not topping from the bottom, but having the ability to make a man weak in the knees, make him groan and lose all control, lose himself inside Heath.

Now, for the first time in his life, he cursed that power. The very traits he'd cultivated had been cruelly turned against him. He'd turned himself into a slut, his body into a toy to be used. But oh god, how he'd been used...

Heath stumbled into his apartment, his head a jumbled mush of emotion. What the fuck had happened back there? His mind felt raped and his body felt made love to. Tingles buzzed through his extremities, his heart raced, and when he shifted he could feel his wet hole so deliciously stretched, could almost feel that big dick still rubbing against his prostate. He raked a hand through his hair and sank onto the couch, ignoring Jay's cum soaking the back of his underwear and his own sticking to his shirt.

"Down, Boo," he murmured, barely seeing the lab trying to greet him. He reached out a mechanical hand to scratch behind Boodah's ears and sat back. Why couldn't Jay just stick it in and get his rocks off, then leave him alone? Heath still would have felt dirty and used, but now he was shaken to his core. What the hell did Jay want? It was almost as if Jay really did like him. But if that was the case, why hadn't he just asked Heath out? A couple of months ago he probably would have said yes, and they'd most likely have ended up in Jay's bed anyway. But that was before Heath knew that his landlord was a sleazy rapist.

Had Heath been raped, though? He'd gone over willingly, knowing what would happen. A victim didn't moan and buck in his attacker's arms, didn't cum calling out his rapist's name. Fuck... Heath rubbed his hands over his face and glanced at the clock, seeing he had just enough time for a quick shower before his afternoon class. But what the hell was the point? He was ruined, he...

No. Heath smacked his palms on his thighs, startling Boodah, and got up to take his second shower of the day. He needed to pass his classes so he could graduate, get a good job, and work towards the day when this would all be just a bad memory. His resolve didn't stop his sobs as he washed the cum from between his cheeks and thighs. He still felt weak, pathetic and dirty. That's when an idea struck him, one he'd considered long before but had promised Justin he'd never do. Not like Justin would care what he did now. Heath was soiled and ruined, he doubted anyone would ever care how he demeaned himself. Maybe someday he'd be more, but for now Heath knew what a cheap bitch with a tight body was good for.

o~o~o

Shawn Helmsley-Michaels followed his husband Hunter to an empty table and slid into the posh booth. The host left them to settle in and admire the scenery, which consisted of dim lighting, dark blue upholstery, and nearly naked men.

Today was Hunter's birthday, and in keeping with tradition, Shawn had asked where his baby would like to be taken out to eat. Also in keeping with tradition, Hunter had replied with the Bottoms Up Lounge. He just liked to have a nice meal surrounded by juicy man-flesh, and maybe get a lapdance. Maybe he was trying to recapture some glory of his youth or something. Shawn, on the other hand, had no desire to revisit those days. Back then Shawn drank too much, did too many drugs, and was kind of a dick. Oh, who was he kidding, he'd been a total dick, and he'd be just fine forgetting the man he'd been. Watching obnoxious drunks act like jackasses to the boys onstage hit a little close to home for Shawn. But, watching the delight on Hunter's face – not to mention the blow job he'd get later – was worth a night of discomfort. Besides, the food was pretty good for bar fare.

The tables had a good view of the main stage, but were far enough away from it and the speakers to have a decent conversation. Two smaller stages, not much more than a platform and a pole, had been built off to the sides of the room. Shirtless dancers milled about, chatting up customers and offering lapdances, wiggling their spangled hind ends and trailing fingers down their oiled bodies. They wore what they'd be taking off onstage, some of them in a costumed character and some just gussied-up versions of themselves. The servers were also shirtless, uniforms consisting of tiny black shorts, cut high enough in the back to show plenty of cheek, white shirt cuffs on the wrists, and a white collar with black bowtie. It was simple and garnered tips, but didn't detract from the dancers.

"Hello," Hunter crooned, and Shawn looked over to see a pair of legs at the next table. The server was slightly bent as he served the drinks, showing off the smooth, pale skin of his ass in sharp contrast to the black fabric that framed it.

"Not bad," Shawn murmured, then his eyes widened as the server straightened and shook back a shock of red hair. "Hey, isn't that the kid that lives in our building? Heath? Um, you have to actually look at his face to tell, Hunt," Shawn said with a snicker.

"Huh? Oh, well I'll be fucked, I think it is," Hunter replied, tearing his eyes away from the redhead's butt. His face split into a grin as Heath sauntered over, serving tray held high.

"Hi there, I'm Vixen. What can I get you boys to drink?" he drawled, then did a double-take. "Oh, shit..."

"Hello to you too, Heath. Oh sorry, Vixen," Shawn said with a chuckle. "I didn't know you worked here."

"Sorry. It's my first week, actually," Heath said, his cheeks turning pink. "It's been kinda rough since Justin left."

"Yeah, I didn't think I'd seen him around anymore. Sorry, man," Shawn said, and Heath shrugged.

"You gonna be dancing for us?" Hunter asked, then yelped as Shawn kicked his shin under the table. Heath just smiled.

"Naw, just got me serving to learn the ropes. Maybe next week during the day they'll put me on a side stage, see how I do."

Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Side stage on a weekday? Oof, they really start you at the bottom here, don't they?"

"No pun intended," Hunter put in. "Don't worry, kid. With an ass like that, you'll be raking in the dough in no time. Ow, what? I was being encouraging!" Hunter scowled at Shawn, who had just kicked him again. Shawn rolled his eyes as Heath laughed.

"Thanks, man. So, what can I get you?"

The couple gave their drink orders and perused the menu while Heath fetched their drinks. Heath was in his element. He was a veteran server, memorizing orders instead of writing them down and moving confidently from table to table. He was eager and friendly, and when a patron got a little too friendly back, he would dodge the grabbing hand with a mild "Don't be rude, man." This was warning enough for most, but twice tonight he'd had to catch the eye of the giant bouncer, introduced to him as Big Zeke, and point him in the direction of an ass-slapper. Big Zeke, with his dark skin, mighty scowl, and shoulders as wide as some men were tall, convinced people to behave quick.

Heath leaned his elbows on the bar, cocking one hip and letting his butt sway as he waited for the bartender to fill his tray. If he was going to be a whore, he might as well work it. He liked the eyes on him as he posed and flirted with every table, and thanks to guys like Zeke, he wouldn't have to go any farther than he wanted to. Not here, anyway. At home... well, he wasn't going to think about home. If he did, he'd be rocking in the corner, convinced everyone could see his shame. There was shame enough in this place, he wasn't going to bring his, too.

"Hey, looks like we got some new meat. Not bad, either," a thick Scottish brogue said beside him. Heath looked over to see what he could only describe as an Adonis. Tall, muscular, with big blue eyes and light brown tresses flowing past his shoulders, the man leaned back against the bar, eying Heath. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth, causing a dimple to appear, and Heath almost giggled like a schoolgirl. His bare, oiled chest marked him as a dancer, though he wore a light blue shirt unbuttoned and draped around his elbows. Heath let his gaze travel down the light trail of brown fuzz on his stomach to sinfully tight black pants. The guy looked like he'd just stepped off the cover of an old romance novel. Heath grinned and folded his arms on the bar, tossing his hair back.

"You ain't so bad yourself, Fabio," he replied. The Scot threw his head back and laughed.

"Ah, got a mouth on ye, don't you? A right pretty one, too," he said. "The name's Drew. The Prince out here on the floor, though."

"I'm Heath. Er, Vixen," Heath replied.

"Then let me welcome you, Vixen. How much have they told you about this place beyond serving tables?"

"Uh, not much, really," Heath admitted. "That's all I'm gonna be doing for this week. Oh, thanks, Jeff," he said to the bartender, who had just set the last drink on his tray. Jeff was the owner's brother and seemed pretty friendly, if a bit pretentious. He gave Heath a little salute, his tattooed fingers touching his multicolored hair, and went to pour for someone else.

"Well, don't let me distract you," Drew told him. "Why don't you come by the dressing room after close, I'll give you some pointers about hanging on here." He gave Heath a full smile, showing both dimples to full effect. "I wouldn't mind seeing you stick around."

"Thanks," Heath said, flashing a smile of his own. "I might take you up on that." He watched Drew walk away before picking up his tray, his heart fluttering a bit. Was he actually thinking about taking a chance with some guy he met at a strip club? Well, it wasn't like he had any moral high ground. And it wasn't a date, just a co-worker helping out. It would be nice to have a distraction, and an excuse not to head back to his apartment building after work. He delivered the drinks and took an order from another table, then saw Drew standing over a customer's lap, thrusting his hips into a grinning face and getting dollars stuffed into his pants. Heath had to admit, that was a nice distraction.

"Last call, gentlemen. Hunter, another beer? Freshen up that club soda, Shawn?" Heath asked the couple. The end of a busy night and his feet hurt, his body oil was mixed with a layer of sweat, and he was pretty sure he had a bruise on his butt from some drunken jerk's enthusiastic pinch, but he'd made better tips than any serving job he'd ever had. He just hoped The Prince didn't turn out to be The Jackass.

"No, we're good," Shawn said, smiling at his tipsy husband. Hunter had gotten his lapdance, eaten his fried food, and enjoyed his birthday. It made Shawn's heart light to see, and he turned back to Heath, handing him more than enough cash for the bill. "Keep it. Thanks for helping make tonight special. You're a great server."

"Thanks," Heath said with a smile. "It was just my luck to wait on people I know my first week, huh?"

"It probably won't be the last time," Hunter said. "Jay still comes in here, doesn't he, Shawn?"

Heath's stomach dropped. "J-Jay..?"

Shawn nodded. "Yup, our illustrious landlord. He don't date much, but he gets the itch every few months or so and pops on by. Aw, don't look so worried, he's not the type to kick someone out for working in a house of ill-repute."

"Maybe he'll get to see you dance," Hunter laughed, and Heath forced a chuckle with him.

"Yeah, maybe... You guys have a good night, now."

"You bet we will," Hunter said, waggling his eyebrows at Shawn, and Shawn leered back.

"I think that's my cue," Shawn said, and dragged his laughing husband out of the club, neither noticing that their server looked a little paler than usual. It seemed nowhere was safe from Jay Reso.


	5. Chapter 5

Heath managed to keep his shaking to a minimum as he cashed out with Jeff and went back to the locker room to wipe down and change. The other two servers, Curt and Tyler, were plotting some routine together to impress the boss, leaving Heath alone with his thoughts.

What were the odds of Jay coming to Bottoms Up and seeing him? It didn't sound like he came in often, and Heath was pretty sure he was scratching whatever itches Jay might have at the moment. Maybe he wouldn't come in at all. And what if he did? It wasn't Jay's business how Heath got his money, as long as Heath paid. Jay couldn't touch him here, and he couldn't imagine anything worse happening back at the apartments. It wasn't like Jay would have a reason to be upset. He'd probably just watch the show and nut on Heath's face later when it was time for another payment.

Heath sighed and buttoned his jeans before slipping a grey tee over his head. Just a little while longer. Making money like this, Heath would be able to pay off a good chunk of his car along with the back rent this month. He just had to hold onto that. He put on his leather jacket and left the locker room, roaming the dim hall in search of the dressing room.

When he found it and poked his head in, he had to pause and blink, his eyes assaulted by a prism of glitter and bright lights reflected in a dozen mirrors. He'd never seen such an array of leather and sequins in one space. Two rows of old-Hollywood style vanities covered in light bulbs made an aisle down the middle of the room, and off to the sides stood racks of costumes. Dancers milled around changing their clothes, chatting about their nights, and getting ready for whatever came after work.

"New meat in the house," said a small man who looked like he should come with a set of fairy wings. The fact that he was wiping glitter off his abs didn't hurt the image. A larger man sat at the vanity next to him, his floppy dark hair held back by a headband as he removed his makeup.

"This room is for the real talent, baby," the makeup remover said in a smoky voice. "Go back to Hawkins and Rex."

Heath flushed and started to stammer, until that brogue spoke up and soothed his nerves. "Calm your tits, lads. He's with me," Drew said from the other end of the row. "Come on over, Heath. The elfin princess there is Evan, he's harmless. And Johnny's just afraid a beaut like you will take his spot."

"Hey! I'm not harmless," Evan squeaked, then grinned. He really did look like an elf when he did that. "I am a princess, though."

"My name," Johnny intoned with a flourish of his hand, "is Fandango." He drew the word out with a breathy growl.

"Shut your gob, Johnny," Drew said, making the other dancers snicker as Heath wove around them to stand by Drew's side. The Scot was seated at a vanity brushing his long brown hair until it looked soft enough to sleep in, and he'd changed into jeans and a white tee. "Ignore Johnny, he's pretty into his stage persona."

"He seems pretty into himself," Heath muttered without thinking, then snapped his mouth shut. The guy at the vanity behind them snorted. Heath looked over and recognized him as the guy who stripped off a letterman jacket and jockstrap onstage, his open good looks and bright blue eyes catering to jock-boy fantasies everywhere. Jock-boy slapped Heath on the shoulder.

"This kid is a bit of all right. See you guys later," he chuckled, slinging his jacket over his shoulder as he headed out.

"That's Alex," Drew said, clipping half his hair up on top of his head. He folded up a blue bandana and wrapped it around his forehead, tying it behind his head before letting his hair loose to drape over it. It was a different look than his stage presence, but Heath kinda liked it.

"Man, I'm horrible with names, and everyone's got two," Heath worried.

"Don't fret, luv," Drew chuckled. "You'll get to know them all in time."

"How long have you worked here?"

"Ech, four years, on and off. More on lately."

"Then I guess you have some good pointers to give me, huh?" Heath asked, reminding the other man of why he was there in the first place. Not that the view wasn't nice, but he wasn't hanging around for a date. That wasn't what he needed right now. Drew grinned at him in the mirror, flashing his dimples, and got up to turn and sit on the table.

"I said I would, didn't I? Well, this is the dressing room," Drew said, waving a hand.

"Duh," Heath said, a smile stretching his lips. Drew laughed.

"Oh, and there's that mouth again. A right handful, you are. I like it. Anyway, there's more than enough clothes, but some bring their own. Make their show more unique. But use labels," he said, pointing a finger. "These bitches are territorial."

A platinum blonde wearing a painful shade of pink looked over. "Like last night when Brad tried to wear those lace-up leathers and you about clawed his eyes out?" Drew's face started to flush as most of the boys laughed.

"I feared for my life," a dark-eyed, sharp-nosed brunette put in. He must be Brad. "It's traumatic having a Scotsman yell at you. That accent got so thick, I didn't know if he was threatening me or asking me out to dinner!"

"Ladies, please!" Evan piped up. "Can't you see he's trying to impress the ginger? He'll never get into those sassy jeans if you keep-"

"All righ'," Drew cried, grabbing his bag and jacket. "Ye've had yer fun. Ach, let's get out o' here, gettin' hard to breathe with all this hot air. Right bastards, the lot o' ye."

"See, I swear he just came onto me," Brad told the room, and Drew rolled his eyes before escorting Heath out.

"Are they always like that?" Heath asked, trying not to snicker. Although the thought of Drew in lace-up leathers was one he'd have to file away and think about later.

"Not always," Drew said with a lopsided smile. "Sometimes they're worse." He saw Heath's eyes widen and chuckled. "I think they like hacking me off 'cause the accent gets their knickers wet."

"Puh, yeah it does," Heath said, then flushed. He really needed a brain-to-mouth filter. Drew simply laughed.

"Just boys blowing off steam after a long night of men treating us like whores." He led Heath through the empty club and sat on the edge of the main runway, patting the stage beside him. Heath hopped up and looked around. The place looked different with the house lights on and the stage lights off, and the only sounds were the soft swishing of the janitor sweeping up and glasses clinking as Jeff stocked the bar. Matt, the owner and Jeff's brother, sat behind the counter up front, handling the money. It was eerie after all the dimly lit activity that had gone on an hour before. All the glamour had been stripped away, leaving a barren place with cheap props and empty promises. Heath's life had come to a soulless illusion.

"Some of them are, you know. Whores, I mean."

"What?" Heath asked, snapping out of his reverie. "They are?"

"Yeah. The back room. You know, private dances. Sign up with Matt there, he gives you a list and you check off what you're willing to do. List gets longer as time goes on for most," Drew answered with a shrug. "The johns set it up with Matt and he gives you the money at the end of the night. All hush, of course, a mite illegal & all. Ah, here comes Dolph. You watch."

The platinum blonde with the chiseled body had emerged from the dressing room and approached Matt. Gone was the screaming pink attire, but his light-wash jeans were tight and he wore a hoodie in a bright teal just as offensive to the eyes. He chatted with his boss a moment, and Matt slipped him a fat envelope which Dolph stuffed into his hoodie pocket before waving goodnight.

"Must be a lot of money," Heath murmured, thinking of all he could do with it. But wouldn't that be the ultimate irony, fucking some guys so he wouldn't have to fuck another guy anymore?

"Aye. And it'll all be gone by next week. Most up his nose. Happens a lot. Some young pretty thing comes in here with pain in his eyes, running from something, and self-destructs." Drew's voice took on a wistful quality as he spoke. Heath's eyes traveled over his profile, taking in his smooth skin, strong jaw, the long line of his brow under the wide bandanna. His deep-set eyes gazed off into the distance, framed by the stray locks of brown that hung around his face. "And any dreams they might have had get lost in the race for oblivion."

Heath tilted his head. "You're awful poetic for a stripper."

Drew blinked, then threw his head back and laughed, a throaty raspy sound that sent tingles down Heath's spine. "Well, my dream was to become a songwriter. So, I came to America, land of opportunity," he said, gesturing at the club, then shrugged. "I sold a couple, probably nothing you've heard of. Rock songs just don't mean anything like they used to, and words don't sell."

"Tell me about it," Heath said, rolling his eyes. "Man, lyrics made you think, y'know? Really feel something in your heart." Drew smiled as he and Heath launched into a conversation about classic rock, their favorite bands, and songs that moved them as the rest of the dancers filtered out of the building.

At one point a regal-looking gentleman with a thick black beard and swept-back hair strode into the club and looked around. He wore a sharp suit with a pink tie and looked wholly out of place, though no one stopped him from coming in. He looked familiar to Heath.

"Who's that?"

"Him?" Drew asked. "Ah, that's Damien. Professor at the local college."

Heath snapped his fingers and nodded. "Riiight. Art history. My ex-boyfriend had a class with him. What's he doing here?"

Drew pointed to a dancer that had been hanging around the bar, chatting with Jeff. A slender, yet muscled pretty boy with striking features and a cute lisp. He left the bar and to meet the professor, and Damien's stern countenance lit up and brightened the entire room. "Cody, his boyfriend. They're both raging bottoms, but mad for each other," Drew explained, smiling as the couple greeted each other with a warm kiss. "I asked Cody once how two bottoms dealt with the whole sex issue. He told me touching, oral, and toys, lots of compromise, and even more love."

"My ex was pretty much a bottom before we got together," Heath said quietly, watching the happy couple.

"Oh yeah?" Drew said. He started to wonder if Heath was on the rebound. It seemed likely, but there was something else about him. Something more. "What happened?"

Heath shrugged. "I guess not enough compromise on my part. And not enough love on his." He looked down at his hands in his lap, and caught a glimpse of his watch. "Shit, it's late and I got class tomorrow. I really should sleep."

"And you two need to clear the fuck outta here and flirt somewhere else," Jeff called from the bar, startling them both.

"Okay, okay," Drew laughed. "C'mon, Heath. I'll walk you to your car." They hopped off the stage and waved to Matt, who grunted and shut his books for the night.

"Stay safe, boys," their boss told them. He looked tired, his dark hair frizzing where it escaped from his ponytail, but pleased. They nodded back and stepped outside, hearing the doors lock shut behind them.

"You work on Saturday?" Drew asked.

"Yeah, serving. But I've got tomorrow off. Why?"

"I wanted to introduce you to JoMo, the top bitch around here. I saw him earlier, but he must have slipped away. He works Saturday, though."

"Top bitch?" Heath asked as they strolled around the building to the back parking lot.

"Yeah. The unofficial head dancer. He's got clout with Matt, so dinnae cross him if you want to keep your job."

Heath nodded. "Got it. Stay on the bitch's good side." Heath's car sat in the far side of the lot, keeping company with Matt and Jeff's truck and a sleek blue motorcycle. They passed a dumpster on the way, unaware of the exchange of whispers and money behind it. Heath pulled his jacket closer against the night breeze as Drew shrugged into his own. Damn, the Scot looked good in leather...

"Is the bike yours?" Heath asked, and mentally kicked himself. It was the only other vehicle around, of course it was. He waited for Drew to tell him he was a dumb ginger, but he smiled.

"Yeah. Wanna take a ride some time?"

Heath chewed his lip. He did like riding a bike. "Maybe..."

"How about tomorrow? It's my day off, too."

The question caught Heath off guard. He didn't think Drew would ask to see him again so soon. Was he asking him on a date, outside of work? "Um, I've got classes tomorrow." True enough.

"That's right," Drew said with a smirk. "Working your way through college, yeah? Never heard that one before." The implication made Heath's face flush.

"I really am. I'll get my business degree, and then someday... someday I'll..." he trailed off, a distant look in his brown eyes. Drew stepped closer.

"Someday what? What's your dream, little fox?" Those blue eyes searched Heath's face, and while the little pet name he'd used made Heath's heart skip, those eyes called to mind another pair of blues, ones that chilled his blood. Heath turned his head away.

"Why do you care?" he asked, trying not to pout and failing. "Why me? Or are you this nice to all the new meat? Just trying to get in these sassy jeans?"

Drew wet his lips. "I told you about Dolph. You've got that same look." He reached out and brushed ginger strands from Heath's face, thumb caressing a cheekbone. "That haunted look around your eyes. There's something special about you; I don't want to see you go down that road."

Heath jerked away. "I don't need you to save me. I can save my goddamn self. Go play Prince Charming with someone else," he hissed, then turned and unlocked his car door. Why couldn't one damn person see him as a human being? No, he was a toy, a slut, and now a special project. Well, if Drew thought he was going to pour his tragic story out and beg for rescue from his wicked landlord like a fucking damsel in a fairytale, he was sadly mistaken. Heath didn't need some asshole with an accent to pretend to care and solve his problems. Heath would probably drive him back to his home country like he did Justin, anyway.

"Heath, wait." Drew grabbed his arm. "I dinnae mean it like that."

Heath scoffed and shrugged him off, opening the door.

"Hey, when we were talking about music, I really liked that. It's... it's been a while since I enjoyed a man's company. I feel a... a connection to you. Don't you feel it?"

Heath paused and swallowed. He did feel it, and it scared him. Still, he found himself turning to face the other man. Drew nodded, taking that as encouragement.

"I thought so. Look, no pressure, okay? Call me when you're done with classes. You can hop on my bike, and we'll see where the road takes us, yeah?"

The idea of taking off for the unknown with a beautiful man was tempting. Heath nibbled on his lower lip, desire warring with fear. It was a combination he was getting to know well.

"I'll have to think about it," he finally replied. "Gimme your number, and we'll see." he dug his phone out of his pocket and handed it over. Drew gave him that lopsided smile and punched the digits in.

"You won't regret it," he said, and handed the phone back, then darted in and planted a quick, feather-light kiss on Heath's lips. The redhead's heart stuttered a second before beating again double-time, and he watched with a stunned expression as Drew retreated to his bike and straddled the machine. He showed Heath both dimples, and Heath tried to repress his own smile as he slid into his car. The beast started up with a roar and took him home.

o~o~o

Heath slipped into his apartment as quickly as he could to quiet the lab barking at his arrival in the middle of the night, hoping he didn't wake his landlord. He locked the door behind him and shushed Boodah, then stood quietly with straining ears, but didn't hear any of his neighbors stirring. With a sigh of relief, he went to take a shower before bed. He was still sweaty and sticky from a hard evening of work, and he welcomed the hot water on his aching muscles. Heath didn't hear Boodah barking again over the spray of water and the swirling of his own thoughts.

All too soon he shut the shower off and dried his body, not bothering to dress before setting the alarm and crawling between the sheets. He thought he'd be awake for hours, but the shower had soothed his reeling mind and he was more exhausted than he realized. Soon Heath drifted into a dreamless slumber, unaware of the figure that stood by his bed, slowly undressing and watching him sleep.


End file.
